


Fae Bet

by Aithilin



Series: Halloween Week 2019 [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Implied Relationships, M/M, Magical Creatures, Magical Realism, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-07 22:55:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21225593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: The stories of the Fae Folk are universal through Eos, though the variations are slight between countries. Nyx was always certain that Crowe was a Fae, Noctis is not so sure.





	Fae Bet

“They say that women like her,” Nyx started as he caught Noctis watching Crowe talking to Ignis— little sparks of magic fluttering between their open palms as they spoke; “are Fae children.”

“Fae children?”

Even from half the room away, Noctis could feel the magic being called up. He could sense his father’s aura, filtered through the very human— or near enough to pass without too many questions— Glaives. The people who retained some noble blood of their own, from generations pat, when the Crystals of the world’s empires burned and pulsed with their own influence across Eos. Their own blood the echo of Solheim, before the Astrals tried to raze them and their cities, their temples, when the Crystals had been stolen away and hidden from the gods themselves. 

He could see Crowe’s colours mix and mingle, broadcast for the whole world to see for those with the talents. Not that many had the sight needed to see the colours of those around them, or sense the source of magic bleeding through the reality around them. And Crowe’s colours were a soft mix of relaxed blues and greens, with the spark of fiery orange as she handled spells and intricate magic above the skills of most Glaives. It wound like threads through her fingers; strands of magic that shimmered before his eyes, and few others. Maybe something the Fae could see, or the Wolves could scent, he supposed. 

But the Kingdom of Lucis was a diverse place, and the welcoming royal family turned away no creature or human who asked for shelter. Not really. Not officially. 

The royal household was staffed by all manner of creatures and kin and beings under the Witch King of Lucis, after all. The Wolves if the Amicitia clan had been tied to the Caelum line ever since the Founder; Sirens smiled and charmed the court to extract truth and fealty alike. Sylphs and Nymphs managed centuries of histories, of skilled work with catalysts and magics that tended to the Crystal. 

And the Fae had their place among them. 

“She was an orphan, or she said she was.” Nyx smiled fondly, the cat’s eye charms of his own beast lurking beneath the human visage a calm purr to Noctis’ insight. “In Galahd, orphans with the talent for magic must be part of the Fae folk.” 

“That’s all you have to go on?”

“Well, she doesn’t like iron, or loose threads, and thanking her for a job she does on her own might get you punched in the jaw.”

“That sounds more like she just doesn’t like you being a jerk, hero.”

There were beasts among the Kingsglaive; heightened senses and languid stretches from the shapeshifters across the kingdom and its allied territories that seemed happy enough to take a position among the soldiers. Nyx embodied his beast well. It was never far from the surface as far as Noctis could tell. The Coeurl slept easily in Lucis, in Insomnia. Where it had canyons to stalk that were made of glimmering glass and polished stone. Where hunters were few and far between, though food was easy to find. He had space to wander and a task to set his mind to among the Glaive. Even if that task was just training the Crown Prince through borrowed magic. He even had a cat’s smile, and his chuckle often started as the low rumble of a purr. 

“That too. But you know the Fae in Galahd are dangerous.”

He had heard stories of curses since he was young. Mischief and threats and the games the Fae could play. “All Fae are dangerous.”

“Work with me, little star.”

Noctis rolled his eyes and watched the woman smile and chat and listen to Ignis. The difference between them was a stark contrast some days, but they got along well when the trek was made out to the training yards. There was something deep and dark about Crowe— her wild doe eyes and loose messy hair practically calling to the forested islands of Galahd. He could see where the assumption came from. 

And it was a case of mistaken identity. 

After all, the Fae of Tenebrae were more elfin for their forests. They were breezy and light and flitted between the world and the magic of their ancient oaks easily. Like stepping from room to room. He recalled Lunafreya’s light and easy smile as she danced among the sylleblossom petals, as she wove crowns for them and shared her Fae treats, and her wings shimmered half unseen in the afternoon light. He remembered Ravus’ earthy tones— how he seemed to disappear among the pale trunks of the Tenebraen forest, slipping easily into the shadows as he trained with silver rapiers. Noctis remembered being in awe of the Fae siblings, of wanting to be like them when he was young, and injured, and afraid he had lost his magic to the Scourge that had tried to take him.

They would have seemed out of place anywhere else. They did seem out of place at each visit to Lucis, to Altissia, to the cold of Niflheim. Their magic was in their home. 

Crowe, he could see her far better than the Fleuret siblings. There was no airy, light promise around her. No shimmer of a glamour to hide her wings, her Fae features. 

He smiled, and thought of letting Nyx have his fun with the idea. 

“Fine, fine. So she’s a Fae child?”

“Not if you say it like that,” Nyx was not a Fae creature. He was a contrary brat when the mood struck him. 

In the Glaive quarters— these long open rooms where the soldiers took breaks, where Noctis liked to sit and watch— Crowe seemed to fit right in. With magic sparking through her hands, the smile easy on her face, the harsh but playful response to teasing, she took to the stone and steel and silver of the kingdom well. Like she belonged here. 

“Stop being such a cat.”

“Make me.”

“She’s not a Fae. Not a true one, anyway. Maybe a nymph.”

“Is that so?” Noctis smiled, knowing that if Nyx had his tail, it would be curling in amusement. In thought, as he studied his friend with inhuman eyes from across the room. “How can you tell?”

“Because I know Fae.”

“Sure you do, little star.”

“I do, I can prove it.”

“Okay, I’ll bite; prove it.”

Noctis offered a little wave to Ignis, catching his friend’s attention. Ignis smiled and excused himself from Crowe with a polite bow. “Highness? Ready to go?”

“In a minute. Can I see your wings, Specs?”

“My wings,” it wasn’t a question, or a denial. But Noctis saw the nervous glance to Nyx’s curiosity. “Am I the subject of a bet between you two?”

“Something like that.”

Ignis rolled his eyes, but Noctis saw the glamour fall away and the nervous flutter of Ignis’ shimmering dragonfly wings move the air behind him. They would be nearly impossible to see for any normal person, but Creatures such as Gladio, and Nyx, could sense the movement of the air. They could catch the line of dust waved free around them, the subtle bend of light and break of magic before the glamour was returned to its rightful place. 

“So,” Nyx seemed to track the change in the air, “Lord Scientia is Fae. And you cook for the little king here?”

“Do you have a problem with Fae foods, Ulric?”

“Not at all, except that whole soul stealing part of it.”

Ignis offered a sharp smile in response, and offered a hand to Noctis to get them moving again. Noctis accepted the offer, rising easily on Ignis whim. “Jealous that I may have a claim that you do not?”

Years ago, in the warmth and light of Tenebrae, childish curiosity had gotten the better of the young Lucian Prince. And innocent kindness had slipped all warnings from Luna’s mind. Sweets were shared between them, the human treats prepared by the human chefs brought from Lucis had been traded for the Fae tarts of Tenebrae. 

Regis had asked a Fae companion for his son in the end. To ease the tearing in Noctis’ souls that would call him back to the distant forests for the rest of his life. A companion who had grown up alongside the Prince, a shadow to trail after and advise the future King, with magic of his own.


End file.
